


Bloody Reflections

by iamashleydawn



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, copious amounts of blood and carnage, just the results of, no actual depictions of violence though, off screen major character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-18
Updated: 2013-08-18
Packaged: 2017-12-23 20:52:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/930978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamashleydawn/pseuds/iamashleydawn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles awoke with a shudder, eyes staring straight up at the blood orange sky above him, black streaking through the clouds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bloody Reflections

**Author's Note:**

> OMGGGG This is my first Teen Wolf story. And my first story written in like 6 years, so if it sucks, sorry! I'm just getting back into it. I don't know how regular a writer I'll be, but I wanted to write today, so you get this. I have so many other stories on my ff.net account, I might transfer those over to here too. 
> 
> There is a couple elements stolen straight from Supernatural's 1.05, so if something seems familiar, it probably is. 
> 
> Also, this was a story I wrote in 2006, re-worked for Teen Wolf in 2013, so uhh, hi there high school projects. (I got a good grade back then too!) And I'm posting without a beta, so all mistakes all my own. And my high school self's. And my high school teacher who gave me a good grade, and thus and inflated sense of my own awesomeness :D
> 
> Oh, and I hate the title. So, send me new title suggestions!

Stiles awoke with a shudder, eyes staring straight up at the blood orange sky above him, black streaking through the clouds. He let out a gasp as he sat up, glancing quickly in all directions, but there was nothing. As far as he could see, it was a field of dead wheat, not even a tree breaking up the endless flat stretching out around him. 

He groaned as he pushed himself to his feet, finally noticing the cuts and tears across his hands and forearms. Most had long since stopped bleeding, scabs starting to form, but a few on his palms had reopened in the dirt and a small trickle of blood flowed through his fingers. Stiles pulled his hoodie off as gently as he could, wrapping his right hand in the red fabric. 

"Where the fuck am I?" he asked the sky, the colour of which was giving Stiles an even worse feeling than his apparent kidnapping and subsequent abandonment.

Since he had no idea in which direction to find civilization, Stiles decided to start walking North. Or the direction he assumed North to be; the strangely coloured sky wasn't that informative for telling time of day. The crunch of the dead wheat beneath his feet seemed overly loud in the deafening silence that surrounded the area. Not even a bird or the whispering of the wind could be heard. Reaching up with his free hand, Stiles felt his ears, but neither seemed to be bleeding or hurt in any way.

Just as he was starting to make out a shape on the horizon, Stiles' foot connected with something solid, but definitely malleable, causing him to cry out as he tripped and landed hard on his hands and knees. Not wanting to know what he tripped over, he shut his eyes tight and crawled a few centimetres away. Breathing heavily, he opened his eyes, only to be confronted with a face. A distinctly dead face, eyes wide open, mouth a perfect 'o', dried blood tracks running down the skin. 

Stiles let out a scream and jumped back, only to let out another scream when his hand landed on a dismembered foot. Stiles quickly pulled his hands and feet into himself and sat, staring straight ahead at a piece of wheat, not daring to move or turn his head. 

"Oh god, oh god," he muttered to himself, over and over, body rocking slightly. "Oh god. Where am I?" Tears leaked from his eyes, as he brought his head down the few inches needed to look back at the object he had originally tripped over. It was a young girl, about 9 or 10, blonde hair matted with blood, eyes squeezed shut, dried blood tracks on her face. Her hands and feet were both missing, and her chest looked ripped apart, as if by animal or werewolf claws.

"Fuck. Fuck, fuck," Stiles said. His hand grabbed at the dirt below him, squeezing and unsqueezing as he tried to fend off a panic attack. "Fuck, no, fuck, please. Help! Help me!" Stiles' head went to his lap as he screamed. The rocking of his body grew violent, and the pain in his hands was forgotten, despite the dirt and rocks getting into his cuts. "Fuck, fuck, breathe, Stiles, fucking breathe. Not now, not right now, fuck. 

"STOP! STOP!" Stiles screamed at himself, forcing his breathing to slow down. "You're fine. Everything is fine. You're strong, and you know some magic, you're fine. You won't end up like them. You're fine. Stiles, breathe, it's just fear, breathe." Slowly his fingers unclenched from the dirt below, and his breathing returned to a normal pace. "You're fine. Panic attacks only last three minutes. It's okay." 

Wiping his hands on his jeans, Stiles pushed himself to his feet, resolutely not looking down at the eviscerated and decimated bodies below him. He turned towards the shape he had seen, and forced himself to put one foot in front of the other, quickly gaining speed and trying his hardest to ignore the constant crunch of the ground below him. He suddenly wasn't sure it was all dead wheat he was stepping on. Breaking into a run, he pushed himself towards the shape, praying it was a house or a building. Something that could help him, or save him. Hopefully a telephone so he could call Scott or Derek, or even his father.

As he grew nearer the object, he noticed the sun was shining off its surface, creating a glare. Stiles slowed down to a crawl, a shiver running up his body, the fear deepening in his veins the closer he walked.

About twenty-five yards from the object he stopped dead. He recognized it. The fear gripped him so tight that he dropped to his knees and stared in abject horror. "It can't be. Oh god, it can't be!" 

Standing proudly, was the old dusty mirror from Scott's attic. 

The one affectionately nicknamed Bloody Mary.

The one they had played chicken games in front of for years. 

The one that Scott, Stiles, Isaac, Lydia, and Allison had stood in front of last night, and Stiles had been the only one brave enough to say Bloody Mary three times. Isaac and Scott refused by claiming that being werewolves was enough supernatural already. Lydia got a bad feeling and wouldn't go near the mirror. Allison wanted to, but Isaac and Scott had adamantly refused to let her.

But Stiles, Stiles wasn't a were. He wasn't in a relationship with weres. And he didn't get death feelings. Stiles was just a kid with a bat, and Bloody Mary was nothing but a silly old legend. Besides, he had enough magic practice since starting his apprenticeship with Deaton that he could handle some silly dead girl with blood issues.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Stiles looked back the way he came. Bodies were strewn everywhere. Body parts were removed. Organs lay on the ground. As far as his eyes could see, everything was stained with a deep red. And every single one of them had bloody tear tracks down their face. 

A high pitched laugh from behind him caused his head to whip back around, but there was no one there, and the mirror's surface was obscured by the glare of the sun. Shaking, he turned back to the bodies, but they were all gone, the wheat was no longer red, and the black streaks in the sky were taking over the orange. The laugh sounded again, from everywhere, and Stiles screamed, covering his ears. This time when he touched his ears, he could feel the blood leaking out of them. 

Scared it was his only chance, he ran for the mirror, the laughter getting louder the closer he got. His head was pounding, and he could feel the pressure starting to build behind his eyes. The sound of Scott's voice telling him not to say Mary's name a third time ran through his mind. 

Reaching the mirror he stumbled and grabbed the sides with his hands, shocked to see Scott's attic on the other side of the glass. His friends were inside, frantically searching everywhere, screaming, and Lydia was crying. 

"I'm here!" he shouted, pounding on the glass, praying they could see him. "Scott! Isaac! I'm here, please! Look! Scott! Lydia! Help me! Oh god please help me!" The mirror shook as he pounded his fists on it, but he could tell they couldn't see him. "Help!!! Help me! Allison! Scott! Look I'm right here!"

Suddenly, Lydia's head snapped up, her eyes landing on the mirror automatically and she screamed. Stiles' blood ran cold as he recognized her banshee's cry. He watched Scott and Allison rush to Lydia's side, yelling questions at her, but he couldn't hear their voices or make out what they were saying. Isaac, however, followed her line of sight to the mirror and Stiles watched his eyes widen and then he was frantically pointing and screaming. 

Scott's and Allison's heads jerked up and Stiles watched all the colour drain from Scott's face. Thinking they could see him finally, he started pounding on the glass again, but stopped when he realized they weren't pointing at him, they were pointing past him. 

Shaking violently, tears streaming down his face, he turned. 

There stood the little girl he had tripped over before, blood running down her dress and out of the stumps where her hands should be. 

Sties fell back against the mirror, gasping, hand automatically coming up to throw her back or ward her off, but his magic was frozen inside him. All he could do was stare through tears as she dragged her body along the ground, laughing the whole time. 

"Oh little lamb, didn't your mommy ever tell you not to play with matches?" The little girl said, but it came out wet and gurgly around the blood leaking from her mouth. "Little lambs get burned." 

Stiles tried throwing her back again, or putting a protective field around himself, but nothing happened. Mary laughed harder, "Won't work, little lamby. You're in my playground. And only I can control my playground." 

Not wanting the sight of the red, sopping mess of Bloody Mary to be the last thing he saw, Stiles turned himself back to the mirror. Scott was standing directly in front, tears running down his face and begging Stiles to fight. 

Stiles raised his hand to wipe at the tears on his own face, but his hand came away covered in blood. Staring at his hand, he gave a gasping sigh, then raised his eyes back to meet Scott's. Scott's widened in return, and he started violently shaking his head, pounding on the glass from his side. Stiles could see him mouthing the word 'no' and 'please', but not even the vibrations from the glass made it to Stiles' side. 

Stiles just shook his head, his bloody hand reaching out to the mirror, trying to plead with his eyes. Isaac must have understood, because he put a hand on Scott's shoulder, and guided Scott's hand up to the mirror. Stiles smiled at Isaac. "Take care of him?" he asked, knowing Isaac couldn't hear him, but Isaac nodded anyway.

"Promise," he mouthed back. 

Allison was holding Lydia behind Scott and Stiles's eyes sought the girls. "I love you," he whispered, looking straight at Lydia. She mouthed the words back before choking on a sob and collapsing further into Allison's arms. 

Stiles glanced at his and Scott's hands pressed against each other with the glass in between before meeting Scott's eyes. Stiles couldn't think of anything to say, but he also knew Scott knew everything he would have said. Tears ran down Scott's face on the other side, but no words came from Scott's mouth, either. 

Suddenly both boys smiled at each other and nodded, saying their I love you's and goodbye's with their eyes. 

Then Stiles only saw blood red as Bloody Mary's grisly stump landed on his shoulder.

**Author's Note:**

> OMG, thank you so much for reading!
> 
> Leave me a review, please! Or even a kudos? I'm semi-newish to this, and your feedback will let me know if I should continue or not :) 
> 
> Also, follow me on tumblr (twoheartsonerose.tumblr.com) and twitter (twitter.com/iamashleydawn). I'm VERY active on both :)


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